


the steady beat of your heart beside mine

by mollivanders



Series: collected rebelcaptain prompt-a-thons [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 11:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10513062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollivanders/pseuds/mollivanders
Summary: She always seems to be just ahead of him, just out of reach (until she’s there in front of him, burning and alive andhome). It makes his head spin, and just – just – just as he’s pulling her closer, his heartbeat picking up – she slips away again.[collected rebelcaptaincheer five sentence fics]





	1. neither pity nor pragmatism explained it

**Author's Note:**

> I hosted a five sentence fic prompt-a-thon this week at my tumblr called [rebelcaptaincheer](http://ladytharen.tumblr.com/tagged/rebelcaptaincheer). People submitted prompts and then I wrote them a fic around it, constrained to five sentences. Most of them ended up being little snippets of Jyn and Cassian's day-to-day life. I wrote so many I thought it would be worth semi-organizing them and posting them here. There are also two snippets featuring space!Spanish that fit with [sin problemas ni orgullo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10464246).

She’d been on the run for over five years since Saw left her – two thousand and five solar days if you want to get specific, which she didn’t. Two thousand and five solar days sleeping with a blaster under her pillow and a knife in her boot, two thousand and five solar days of scrounging, fighting, stealing, and _losing_ over and over again until she ended up in an Imperial labor camp.

Two thousand and five solar days of hopelessness.

But now, standing in this hangar where she thought she’d lost all over again, Cassian’s words ring in her ears and thrum in her heart like a living thing, his presence a bright sun overshadowing two thousand and five solar days of despair.

(They carry her to Scarif, and beyond.)

+

“Are there dialects on Fest?” she asks one night as they boredly keep watch, propped against each others’ backs. “There used to be more,” he says, pitching his voice at a low volume that won’t carry, “a long time ago.” He adjusts his back against hers and adds “it’s more about the planets now.” 

“That would explain,” she answers, “why I still can’t understand Leia half the time.”

The smile in his voice rings clear as he says “Oh, no, Jyn, that’s not why at all.”

+

She always seems to be just ahead of him, just out of reach (until she’s there in front of him, burning and alive and _home_ ). It makes his head spin, and just – just – just as he’s pulling her closer, his heartbeat picking up – she slips away again.

Except sometimes, she’s suddenly beside him, quiet and working and steady, stealing glances at him when she thinks he can’t see and making his pulse quicken from the slightest of touches

Most days, she’s only barely out of reach, too quick on her feet by far, and he wonders if she’ll ever stay.

(Sometimes, she does.)

+

She wakes suddenly in the night, alert to Cassian sitting up on guard, but whatever threat lurked in the halls of Echo Base continued on its way without incident. He sighs, looking down at her with a shrug, and stows his blaster back under the pillow.

“Sorry I woke you,” he mumbles, voice still raw from sleep. She shakes her head, curling up next to him again to share heat in the cold and dark. “Don’t apologize,” she says as he shifts closer, resting her head on his chest, “I’m glad you did.”

+

The skies above them break suddenly and without mercy, heaping buckets of warm summer rain onto the hapless pedestrians below. She yelps in surprise and lets Cassian drag her under a nearby awning as people race for cover around them.

“So much for that plan,” he murmurs at her ear; her stomach flips as he slides his arms around her waist, his body warm and comforting behind her. “Could be worse,” she says, a sense of security enveloping her.

(He hums contentedly when she covers his arms with her own, the rain all but forgotten.)

+

She watches him stumble back onto the ship, his eyes tracking somewhere far beyond the horizon as K2 takes off, and she creeps closer to stand behind him. “Mission a success?” she asks softly, sliding one hand around his shoulder in the copilot’s seat; he nods, a reflex more than a response.

(She knows the mission details; she doesn’t need them from him and can guess at the rest.)

“Good,” she breathes and though he does not look at her, she feels him relax ever so slightly against her.

(It’s enough; enough for now.)

+

“Sit still,” he orders as she pulls her hand away from him, “I’m trying to clean this.” She huffs in frustration but relents, letting him dab at her broken knuckles with ointment before dressing her hand with a bacta wrap. 

“He had it coming,” she mutters, flexing her hand under the wrap and looks up to see Cassian watching her with concerned, stern eyes.

“I know he did,” he answers, sitting next to her and pressing a kiss to her wounded hand. “Just – next time, don’t use a closed fist.”

+

“Are you sure no one’s listening?” she mouths at him as he finishes the sweep of the room for bugs. Her hungry eyes take him in; it’s the first sight she’s had of him in over a month while building cover for this mission. Cassian looks up from the scanner, grinning as he saunters closer to her.

“Nobody here but us,” he says before bending down to kiss her, stumbling closer as she tugs him closer by his jacket. “Well, finally,” she says, leading him to the bed, stealing kisses along the way, “because nobody should hear you but me.”

+

Six months after Scarif, Cassian goes into deep cover, sent on a mission he can’t even tell Jyn about. She watches him leave, a solitary figure heading into a spaceship, wrapped in a coat she’s sure won’t keep him warm for long.

(She cannot linger, keeping careful watch by the fireside – she volunteers for the next Pathfinders mission out of Hoth.)

When she finally sees him again, he’s in the medbay and she has to fight her way to his side, but when she links their fingers together the creases around his eyes relax.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she says, her voice wavering; his fingers tighten around her own.

+

They get married on a whim, on a dare, on a challenge on Maskin II and they don’t tell anybody when they come back. It’s something that’s theirs and only theirs, secret and private in the midst of a rebellion, and not much changes to the outer eye. They already share quarters; they are already a unit, a pair, in every sense that matters.

Nobody even guesses the secret until Chirrut and Baze show up and Chirrut congratulates Jyn on her nuptials, a note of reproach in his voice at not being invited.

(After that, the flush on Cassian’s face gives them both away.)

+

“So tell me,” he asks, passing her a container as they emptied the ship, “what words you learned today.”

“Um,” she says, her mind going traitorously blank under his stern gaze. “Fuego,” she answers and he nods approvingly, passing her another container, “astronave, pistola”. 

On the other side of the hangar, a small explosion catches her attention. 

“Combustible,” she adds, smiling at his laughing approval.

+

He rubs at his chin, staring at his reflection as he considers the day old growth. “I hate shaving,” he mutters, “it always itches like hell when it comes back.” 

She reaches out, running her thumb along his jawline and stepping closer to him. “But you’re growing it back, right?” she asks and the look he shoots her sends warmth pooling in her belly. 

“You like this better?” he asks, stepping her back to the wall; she stands on her toes to cup his face, her fingers running over the scruff.

“Much better,” she says, a soft noise escaping her as he bends down to kiss her.

+

As the ship takes off, still half-collapsed over Cassian to shield him from blaster fire, she feels his heart pounding against her and rolls away to check him for injuries. “Are you alright?” she asks, her ears still ringing; Cassian sits up, his eyes bright with anger. “What were you thinking!” he says too loudly, and she presses at her ears, “you could have been killed!”

She stares at him, surprised he doesn’t already know, and reaches to take his hand. “Better me than you,” she says, and his fingers tighten around her own.

+

“You just had to do it, didn’t you?!” she yells as they run, taking shots over their shoulders while henchmen swarm after them. She’s not sure they’re going to make it to the speeder and puts in an extra burst of effort, Cassian matching her pace. Sand is flying into her eyes and she’s already decided he’s never going to hear the end of this; not ever.

“Jyn, you don’t understand,” Cassian yells, taking out a henchman speeding at them from a sail barge. “I had to understand the texture!”

+

She crouches next to him in the dirt, narrowed eyes focused on the trail they’ve been tracking, before pointing shaking her head. “It’s a decoy,” she murmurs and looks carefully in the dirt and adds, “there’s volcanic ash that way, not the quartz we found before.”

“How can you tell?” Cassian asks, his eyes warm as they linger on her, and she smiles crookedly. “My mother taught me,” she says.

They wander away from the false trail, Lyra’s legacy leading the way.

+

She’s definitely got Han Solo beat in this drinking game. The smuggler talks a lot of bantha dirt but when the chips are down, she’s drunk larger than him under the table. Still, she’s down to her last shot and Solo has that mad glint in his eye that means he’s not done yet and _where_ is Cassian?

Suddenly she feels his light touch at her back, a rack of Corellian whiskey carefully balanced in his other hand; as he sets it down she grins, pulling him down by his jacket to kiss him.

“Thanks,” she murmurs as he dips back down to steal another, “I was lost without you.”

+

She catches him stealing looks at her as they strap in for landing on the forest moon. Her blood is thrumming in her veins but he looks calmer and more focused than he’s ever been. 

“You ready for this?” she asks, almost worried that he doesn’t seem on edge as they prepare to land on an Imperial moon and take out another Death Star, “you seem different.”

A smile plays at his lips and he shakes his head; “no,” he answers, “I was just thinking about the future.”

(A warm flush creeps across her – but like the future, it too will have to wait.)

+

Her instincts tell her to run. It’s the only way she’s ever survived, on her own, and now with her blood rushing and heart pounding, her body is telling her to run, get out, and save herself.

Instead, she races towards the battlefield – back to Cassian.

“I thought you’d gotten away,” he groans as she drags him away, clutching his side, “I told you to get away.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she says in a strained voice, and Cassian hangs his head.

(They make it out together.)

_Finis_


	2. poe and his kickass godparents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s finishing his debrief when he spots her walking over to him. She’s shorter than he remembered, more grey in her hair, and she has a limp that he’s sure is new. Still, when he closes the last few paces and pulls her into a hug, she is his same godmother, the one who taught him how to hotwire a ship and pick any lock in the galaxy.
> 
> “I’m glad you’re home safe,” she murmurs against his coat, toes barely touching the ground. He grips her tighter, nodding, and echoes the same back to her.
> 
> [collected rebelcaptaincheer five sentence fics]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hosted a five sentence fic prompt-a-thon this week at my tumblr called [rebelcaptaincheer](http://ladytharen.tumblr.com/tagged/rebelcaptaincheer). People submitted prompts and then I wrote them a fic around it, constrained to five sentences. I wrote so many I thought it would be worth semi-organizing them and posting them here. These fall under the AU where [Jyn and Cassian survive and end up being Poe's godparents](http://ladytharen.tumblr.com/tagged/poe-and-his-kickass-godparents).

“Can you tell me a story?” Poe asks, his bottom lip trembling, and Jyn has to suppress a giggle at the look on Cassian’s face. This was his idea, and she should make him figure it out –

“A long time ago,” she begins, and Poe curls up under her arm, “in a galaxy far, far away, there was a princess; a rebel princess.”

“Was it an Alderaanian princess?” Poe asks hopefully and Jyn grins. “You’ll see.”

+

“Best cook in the galaxy,” Jyn says as Cassian sets the plate of chilaquiles on the table and Poe inhales deeply. “How would you know?” Cassian asks, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth, though only years of practice let her see it. “You must have the least complex tastes in the galaxy.”

“Careful, Cassian,” Poe says, serving himself like the teenager she is, “she picked you.” 

He pretends to miss the way they react, eyebrows rising in synced surprise, before adding, “She must have some taste after all.”

+

He’s finishing his debrief when he spots her walking over to him. She’s shorter than he remembered, more grey in her hair, and she has a limp that he’s sure is new. Still, when he closes the last few paces and pulls her into a hug, she is his same godmother, the one who taught him how to hotwire a ship and pick any lock in the galaxy.

“I’m glad you’re home safe,” she murmurs against his coat, toes barely touching the ground. He grips her tighter, nodding, and echoes the same back to her.

+

One dreary evening, Cassian has enlisted Jyn into helping him sort through their weapons when Poe shows up with someone she doesn’t recognize.

“This is Finn,” Poe says proudly, giving the younger man a gentle push forward, “he’s the one who –”

“Who helped rescue that young girl,” Jyn says as Cassian murmurs Jedi beside her. She reaches out to shake Finn’s hand, delighting in the bashful look on his face when she adds, “Of course we’ve heard of you; you’re a big deal in the Resistance.”

“Yeah,” Poe adds, and something familiar in the way he looks at Finn catches her attention, “he is.”

+

“What did you think would happen?” she asks, amusement battling with concern. He’s not seriously injured, nothing a bacta tank didn’t fix, but he’s still sore in places he wouldn’t have been ten years ago.

“Poe and Finn asked me to come with them,” he grumbles as she helps him stand, “it’s not like you didn’t run off to help Leia last week without telling anyone.”

She nods, conceding the point. “We should be grateful to be this old,” she says absentmindedly; the look he gives her makes her laugh out loud.

_Finis_

**Author's Note:**

> I am [ladytharen](http://ladytharen.tumblr.com) over at Tumblr if you'd like to say hi!


End file.
